Short Story Excerpt: TEOS: The Protector - Ch1 (Pt1)

Overview: https://kaylinrosealexande.wixsite.com/kaylinalexanderbooks/post/short-story-fantasy-the-emerald-of-secrets-pt-3

Previous: https://kaylinrosealexande.wixsite.com/kaylinalexanderbooks/post/short-story-excerpt-teos-the-search-for-the-ruby-necklace-ch7

Okay, I lied. Last post I said I'd post this "tomorrow" and it's been several days since.

I don't know if I can keep up with a daily blog any more, so I'm going to reduce it. Not sure if I'll keep to a consistent schedule, though, but I will still post updates to Twitter and through email.

Anyways, here's my next attempt at The Emerald of Secrets in my freshman year of high school.

CHAPTER ONE

If there was one thing worse than death, it would be leaving without saying goodbye.

It would be never seeing your best friend again. It would be feeling alone. It would be being an outcast. It would be being stared at by strangers every day.

Being swept away without any explanation. Not knowing what to do next. Not knowing where you are.

If there was one thing worse than death, it would be leaving behind everything you know.

This is how I felt as a stared at the sign that read “Anderson High School” in big, giant gold letters next to a drawing of a matching golden butterfly. A butterfly. A freaking insect was the mascot of this stupid school.

Sweat started to pour down my brow. It was late September, but it was still hot. Around me were several kids wearing sweaters, like it was cool outside. I guess that’s normal for Orlando kids. It’s really hard to adjust from Minnesota to Florida, I guess.

I brushed my sandy blonde hair out of my eyes. Ugh, my bangs were soaked with my own sweat.

I felt as if there were millions of eyes on me as I pushed open the door. I saw girls whispering to each other, and plenty of fingers pointing at me, the kids trying to be discreet, to see if I wouldn’t notice. But I did.

I sat down in an empty seat with empty seats surrounding it. This was as away from everyone else as I could be. I put my bangs back in front of my eyes and my head slightly down, so I could observe my surroundings without being obvious. There was a long hallway adjacent to the commons, with a few staircases here and there leading up to a second floor. On the other side of the commons, there was another hallway, leading so far down, I had no idea what was down there. There was another hall which had a giant sign that said “Fine Arts” above it.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my schedule that I had gotten yesterday at admissions yesterday. I had geometry first. I let out a long breath of relief. Something easy.

“Hey,” a voice said in front of me. I peeked through my bangs to see a boy. He was tall, thin, and had dark skin. His eyes were like chocolate, and his black hair fell over his eyes. “You new?” he asked.

I tried to hide my embarrassment behind my bangs. “Is it that obvious?”

The boy sat down in front of me. “I’m David. You?”

“Christy,” I said, though it was barely audible.

“It’s nice to meet you, Christy,” he said, smiling. He had a nice smile. One that stretched from ear to ear. A real one.

The bell rang, and David immediately asked what my first class was. I told him, and he took it upon himself to lead me up the stairs and to my Geometry class. He smiled, waved bye, and ran off to whatever his class was. I took a deep breath, and took a step into the classroom.

Almost as soon as my foot crossed the barrier, I felt all eyes turn to me. I swallowed hard as I clutched my books to my chest. My eyes darted around the room, trying to find an empty seat. There were plenty, of course, but the bell had just rang, so I might sit in someone else’s seat on accident.

“Hey, you new?” a girl in the back asked. I slowly nodded. She smiled and patted the seat next to her. “This is empty.”

I wanted to complain that it was in the very back of the room, but I was new, so I guess I could let it slide. I sat next to the girl. She had pale skin, dark brown hair, and matching eyes. She smiled. One similar to David’s.

“It’s nice to finally have someone to sit next to,” the girl said, almost painfully obviously attempting to start a conversation. “But we picked our seats at the beginning of the year, and believe me, no one wants to sit next to the girl who always has her nose in a book.”

I almost took offense to this, and clutched my books tighter, as if protecting them from the girl. She noticed this and laughed. “I was joking.” She tried to pear through my body. “So, what are you reading?”

I reluctantly moved my body from the giant biography it was on. Most teenage girls don’t read non-fiction books willingly, but I do.

I waited, expecting the girl to scoff and roll her eyes, but instead she gasped. “You’re reading about Alexander Hamilton?”

I was taken off guard for a second. No one had seemed excited about my non-fiction obsession. “Yes. Why?”

The girl seemed really excited now. She was grinning and her eyes were shining. “Have you listened to the musical?”

I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

“The musical,” she repeated.

I looked down at my biography. “Musical?” I repeated. “About this guy?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah, about ten years ago, there was a musical called Hamilton. It was the hottest show on Broadway for the longest time.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you never heard of it?”

I shook my head. “I’m not really into musicals.”

“You’ll love this one,” said the girl. “It appeals to a wide variety of people, including history buffs such as yourself.”

“I’m a fact and logic buff,” I said. “A musical sounds like it would defeat the purpose of that.”

“It has some historical errors,” said the girl, “but it’s still great nonetheless. There’s something magical about it.”

I put my head back down on my book. “Magic. As if such a thing existed.”

Oh cringe cringe cringe cringe crinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnge.

Obviously was in the middle of a Hamilton hyperfixation when I wrote this, which makes the accidental references to it in the previous draft funnier. I don't care. I hate this. It's so cringe and dates it.

I do like that Christy met Dave before Trish this time, though. I obviously made the fact/fantasy thing more prominent with Christy and Trish. Not as much sapphic subtext as last time, boooo!

I also hate the first person. It just doesn't work that well, and is the only time I went into first person for The Emerald of Secrets. It just has more of a third person vibe to it. But this was at a time in which I thought first person was inherently better than third, while now I realize it really just depends on the author and the story.

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